“I already read it.”
I throw my mother a side-eye. “Of course you did.”
She shrugs unrepentantly.
Wren plucks the card from the plastic holder and pulls it out of the envelope. “Second chances lead to forever. I’m so sorry. I love you and will never hurt you again. Please forgive me,” Wren reads. She waves the card across her face as if she’s fanning herself. “It’s handwritten too.”
“Would you take him back?” I ask her. “If you walked in onJack fucking some chick in your bed, would you take him back?”
She snorts. “Take him back? I’d sever his balls and shove them down his throat until he choked to death and then do the same with his cock and shove it down hers. But I’m feisty like that and a bit of a psycho. Ask Katy. She’s more levelheaded.”
“Yeah, not really. Because if I caught Bennett in our bed with another woman, I’d…” She trails off as she tilts her head. “Wow, I have no revenge game that’s better than yours.” She points to Wren. “I’d have to think of something badass. I’d likely shoot him up with all of my insulin and ask Vander and Stone to hide the body. But the reality is, we can tell you what we think we’d do, but no one really knows how they’ll react until they’re in the moment. I have a child with Bennett and another on the way, and to that, there are women who forgive. It does happen that the guy fucks up, the woman forgives him, and they do go on to live a happy life together.”
I think about this for a moment as I stare at the flowers and allow the words on a card to settle over me. I’m grateful he didn’t show up here. That’s likely more self-preservation than anything else. My mother works here, for starters, and you don’t fuck with nurses. You just don’t. Plus, I have other people here who have my back, so it’s not a safe place for him.
Fine.
But right now, I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to look at him because all I see when I close my eyes is him inside of her in the home we made together. That’s what shatters me. Perhaps if it had been a fuckup, a drunken one-night thing, I could have gotten over that. But bringing her to our home, into our bed, because their hotel room wasn’t ready yet is just fucking abhorrent.
That doesn’t deserve second chances.
It doesn’t deserve forgiveness.
It’s a slap to the face and a wakeup call.
“I’ve got patients to see,” I announce instead of voicing any of that. I pluck an orchid from the vase along with a hydrangea and shove the rest of the bouquet at my mother to do whatever she wants with.
“What are you doing?” my mother asks.
“Mrs. Box is an anxious woman who might like some flowers.” I start to walk off. “Love you, ladies. I’ll see you on the flip side of Mexico.”
Just before I reach the patient’s room, I get a text.
Adam: Did you get my flowers?
Me: I did. I’m giving them to my patient at this very moment.
Adam: I sent them for you. Not your patients.
Me: But she needs them more than I do.
Adam: They’re the exact flowers from your bouquet.
Me: I’m aware. I picked them out. Bye now.
Adam: Stop! No, wait, please. I love you. Don’t give up on us because I made a mistake.
Me: You gave up on us the moment you stuck your dick into her. I’m coming by later to get my stuff. Word to the wise, don’t be there. I’m feeling vengeful and have access to scalpels, needles, and drugs that kill.
I leave it at that, and after grabbing my patient’s Ativan, I head into the room. “Mrs. Box, hello. I’m Braelyn and I’ll be your nurse today. Someone told me you’re a little nervous to be here and let me tell you, you’re in the best possible hands. We’re going to take excellent care of you. And I brought you flowers.”
The woman on the bed eyes them suspiciously as if they’re the poppies fromThe Wizard of Ozand they’ll put her to sleep if she smells them.
“Where’d you get those?”
I set them down on the bedside table and pour her some water so she can take her meds. “Here. Take these. Dr. Kincaid’s orders.” I drop the pills into her hand and get the things I need for her Foley catheter so she’ll be able to pee without retention and other issues. “These are from my very recent ex-fiancé, whom I just caught cheating on me.”
She scowls at the flowers and surprises me with an appreciative lift of her chin. “I had one of those once. I met my husband, may he rest, two weeks after I left the first bastard. Don’t worry, honey. Men like them are a dirty dime a dozen, and women like you are the diamond in the rough. You’ll be just fine.”